Love Is In The Cauldron
by shadowhunting-potterhead
Summary: When Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger a paired together for a month long Potions assignment, it's the worst thing either of them can think of. However, will they feel the same way by the end of the month? What does the future hold for Draco and Hermione?
1. Chapter 1

The day had started normally enough. Hermione Granger had woken up on time, groggily pulled on her robes, tried to tame her frizzy brown hair to no avail, and joined Harry and Ron for breakfast, bickering with the latter whilst Harry stared into space, moodily contemplating whatever it was he brooded about these days. They all had Potions first up, so they all made their way to the dungeons, discussing various ways to get Snape to consume a Draught of Living Death. They took their usual seats and waited for Snape to make his _entrance_. Because the Potions master didn't just walk into a room; no, that wouldn't be dramatic enough. He _swept _in, his dark robes billowing behind him with a dark look on his face that commanded silence.

It was after Snape had made his entrance that everything changed for Hermione.

"Your final assessment will be an extremely advanced potion that will take about a month to complete. You will be working in pairs to brew this particular concoction, and your grade will be based on both the potion itself and your ability to work as a team," Snape was explaining.

"I notice that nobody has asked what exactly it is you will be making. Your answer is this: the Polyjuice Potion. "

At this there were groans, but Hermione felt relieved. She had successfully brewed a cauldron full of Polyjuice Potion in her second year in a ladies bathroom using stolen ingredients, so using proper utensils and not having to steal from Snape's private store would make this assignment child's play.

At least, that's what she had thought.

"Oh, and there's one last thing," Snape said with a malicious smile marring his usually expressionless face. "I will be personally assigning your partners for the task."

Hermione's stomach sank. She had been counting on working with Ron or Harry. Snape was sure to pair her with somebody hopeless that would ruin her potion, like Neville Longbottom, or even worse, one of Malfoy's hideous cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.

The Potions master was reading the partnerships from a long piece of parchment. He had assigned Harry with Neville, and Ron with Goyle. Crabbe was with Parvarti Patil, something the other girl was scowling in the corner about.

"Hermione Granger…," Snape intoned, glancing up at Hermione with malice glinting in his black eyes, "You will be partnered with Draco Malfoy."

"_Malfoy?" _ Hermione blurt out incredulously. Malfoy looked as though Snape had slapped him, and was facing her with a look of disgust twisting his pale features.

"Professor, you cannot _possibly_ expect me to work with that buck-toothed Mudblood for an entire _month._" Malfoy was saying to Snape.

"Don't call her that, you git!" Harry shouted.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter; open your mouth again and it will be twenty. Draco, three points from Slytherin for questioning my authority."

"Only three points? He called her a _Mudblood_!" Harry shouted.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Potter, and detention with me after school. I believe a nice scrubbing of the telescope lenses in the Astronomy tower will teach you to keep your big mouth shut." Snape snapped.

Malfoy smirked.

"Now, I expect O.W.L standard potions from all of you at the end of this month. You may begin."

And with that, Snape swept out of the room.

Hermione sat there, frozen to her seat. This couldn't be happening. No way was she paired with Malfoy, the vilest person she knew. No, this must be one of her failing-O.W.L nightmares. If she pinched herself, she'd wake up. She did, but all this accomplished was to leave a bruise on her thigh.

Okay, so this was real. Real and awful. She didn't even have time to process it, because Snape had told them to begin, and Malfoy was shooting daggers at her. She glared back and crossed her legs. No way was _she_ going to approach _him_. She had far too much pride and dignity. It appeared that Malfoy wasn't all too keen on approaching her, either, and they stayed like that, her with her legs and arms folded, him glaring at her and proudly smoothing his already slicked-back blond hair. They probably would have stayed like that all lesson, had Ron not leaned over and told her "One of you is going to have to do it, and I doubt it's going to be him. Time to take one for the team, Hermione." She glared at Ron so furiously that he actually looked taken aback. But Hermione realised he was right. With a sigh, she dragged her books and cauldron over to Malfoy's table and plunked herself down in the seat beside him.

He was looking at her with open hostility. "Do I have something on my face?" she snapped.

"Yeah," Malfoy sneered. "Right… oh, wait. That _is_ your face." At that, he laughed loud enough to push Hermione's nerves to the edge.

"Look," she spat, getting right in his face. "Neither of us is happy with this arrangement, but since I care about my grades, I'm not going to just give up. I need my Outstanding mark, and I need to brew this potion to get it, and you are going to help me and not just be a pain in the behind, or I am going to punch you right in the nose _just like I did in our third year_."

The reminder seemed to infuriate Malfoy.

"Listen here, Mudblood," he said scathingly. "if you think for one minute I'm going to let you lay one of your filthy hands on me ever again-"

"Lacewing flies and leeches," Hermione interrupted.

"What?" Malfoy looked baffled.

"I need lacewing flies and leeches. You know, for the potion. You go get them while I fill the cauldron with water and bring it to the boil."

_"You _go get the lacewing flies and leeches, I'm not going anywhere," Malfoy said petulantly.

"_Fine_," Hermione said exasperatedly. "You boil the bloody water then."

She slipped off her stool and headed toward the student store cupboard. Honestly, she thought whilst she was rummaging through the shelves, Malfoy was so immature, acting like a sulky child. It wasn't as if she was thrilled about the arrangement, but Malfoy was acting like the potion and the partnership was entirely her idea. Which was strange, Hermione mused as she found the leeches, because she knew quite well that Malfoy not only cared about his studies, but that his father was pressuring him to beat her. So why in the name of Merlin was he making this harder than it already was?

Having found both the lacewing flies and the leeches, Hermione made her way back to the table she was unwillingly sharing with Malfoy. As she sat down, she noticed that Malfoy had actually done as she asked and their cauldron was half filled with steadily bubbling water.

"What?" Malfoy asked nastily, noticing her surprise. "Just because I don't like _you,_ doesn't mean I'm not going to participate in the potion brewing."

"You're going to participate; you're just not going to make it easy for me, right?" Hermione asked through gritted teeth.

"Why on Earth would I make it easy for you?" Malfoy asked coolly, examining his reflection on the surface of the water.

Hermione shook her head, aggravated. "Shut up and juice these leeches," she told him, "While I quarter these lacewing flies. If you don't co-operate, the entire potion will be a bust and neither of us will get the mark we want."

Hermione quickly finished the lacewing flies and watched Malfoy juice the leeches. He really wasn't that stupid, she thought, examining the way his arm moved with the knife, his head bowed over his work, his hair falling in his eyes occasionally causing him to brush it back in frustration. His problems, she realised, started when he opened his mouth.

As if on cue, Malfoy looked up at her so suddenly she didn't have to look away.

"Have I got something on _my_ face?" he asked her rudely.

All of Hermione's charitable thoughts toward him disappeared. "I was just wondering if it was possible for you to juice those any slower. Really, a snail could have done a lap of the entire castle and made himself a cup of tea in the time it's taken you to juice five leeches," she told him scathingly.

"There are only five leeches to juice, idiot" he said slowly, as if talking to a pre-schooler.

Hermione didn't answer. Embarrassed, she took the vial of leech juice and added it to the cauldron with the lacewing flies and watched as the potion took of a distinct bottle-green colour, exactly as her Potions book had advised. Satisfied, she looked over at Malfoy, who was watching the cauldron with a proud look on his face.

"We need to stir it now," she told him, after having let it bubble away for exactly a minute. They both reached for the stirring spoon at the same time, and their hands brushed each other's. Malfoy jerked his hand back as soon as it happened, a dark look coming over his face.

"Sorry," Hermione muttered, picking up the spoon and stirring the formula three times clockwise and once anti-clockwise.

The rest of the lesson passed in a haze. Malfoy and Hermione took turns to stir their potion, but neither reached for the spoon at the same time again. Once the bell had rung, Malfoy barged past her, knocking her bag off her shoulder and causing her books to spill everywhere. Ruefully, she bent down to pick them up.

It was going to be a long month.


	2. Chapter 2:

The rest of Hermione's week was relatively normal, with one exception: Potions lessons with Malfoy. The potion had begun to increase in difficulty, and as a result, tempers flared.

Hermione was just exiting the Great Hall after lunch and heading toward the dungeons for her Potions lesson when she spotted Malfoy exiting a men's bathroom just ahead of her. She knew he saw her, because he seemed confused for a minute before he shook his head and turned his back on her, his Slytherin robes flaring out behind him.

Hermione felt as confused as Malfoy looked. Usually he would go out of his way to call her 'Mudblood' or some equally rude name, but today he seemed less inclined to do so. Could it be possible he was experiencing the same confusion she was? Every time she saw him, she felt awkward and unsure of the correct etiquette. For the past week, they had been getting along better (apart from a few arguments), and whilst they may not be strictly enemies, they certainly weren't anything close to friends.

Hermione was mulling this over as she entered the dungeon. She could see Malfoy at their table up the front of the room, checking on their cauldron. It's funny, Hermione thought, all these collective nouns she was using. _Their _table. _Their _cauldron. _Their _potion. She was subconsciously including Malfoy in her academics, something she never did with anyone. It had always been _her_ work. The realisation shocked her as much as Malfoy's lack of insults did.

She walked over to the table and sat down beside him, like she had done for the past week.

"Malfoy," she said by way of greeting.

He nodded. "Granger."

Hermione started. It was the first time he had ever called her 'Granger' instead of 'Mudblood' or nothing at all. Things were changing, Hermione thought.

"Okay, so today we need to add the knotgrass and slightly more water, and then we let it stew for a week," she informed him.

"Can do. Hey, tonight's the full moon, right?" he inquired.

Hermione was confused. "Yeah," she said. "Why?"

Malfoy looked uncomfortable. "Well, it's just that the fluxweed has to be picked on the full moon, and I didn't know if you'd just bought some, or if you planned to pick it tonight or what. I mean, I'm not saying you have to do it, I can do it, but I wanted to know what your plan is."

"I was just going to buy some," she said.

"Well, see, I did some research, and apparently freshly picked fluxweed produces much better results than store-bought," he said.

"Yes, but where on Earth are we going to get freshly picked fluxweed?" she asked him.

Malfoy winked. "I know a place. Meet me by the entrance to the Astronomy tower at eleven o'clock tonight."

Hermione left potions class feeling breathless, like she'd run a race. Malfoy's wink had done funny things to her insides, making her stomach flop and her knees feel kind of… jelly. She watched him walk ahead of her, and couldn't help but notice the way he smiled at his mates, or the way his hair would occasionally fall in his face, causing him to push it back. She didn't understand how she could possibly be feeling this way toward _Malfoy _of all people, somebody who had made her life hard since they first met. And why was he acting so nice to her? He'd always been physically attractive, but he'd always been a huge git, too, which had easily offset his attractive physique.

But now- what? She didn't understand what was going on with Malfoy, but there was one thing she did know for sure: she was going to have to get Harry to let her borrow his Invisibility Cloak, and she was going to have to do it without mentioning Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy lay down in his bed in the Slytherin common room that night, mind whirring. He had called Granger by her last name today, instead of calling her 'Mudblood'. He was trying to convince himself that it was just an accident, but he knew better. He couldn't bear to insult her anymore. He wanted to call her something nicer, something that suited her. For the past few Potions lessons, he had been noticing _things_. The way her brown curls tumbled down her back, the way she could get so lost in her own head that he wanted to go in there with her and find out what she was thinking about, watch her incredible mind work. He knew it was wrong to be feeling these things for someone his father would call a Mudblood, but he couldn't help it.

Draco checked his watch. It was time to go meet Granger. He got up, pulled his green and silver scarf around his neck and headed towards the door of the Slytherin common room, but was stopped by Goyle.

"Oi, Malfoy, where you off to?" he asked in his deep, stupid voice.

"Why don't you mind your own business instead of snooping in on mine?" Draco snapped.

Goyle, looking affronted, stepped aside and allowed Draco to go through the door.

Heading down the corridor, he breathed a sigh of relief that nobody except the dim-witted Goyle noticed or tried to stop him. He was already nervous; he didn't want anybody trying to intercept him.

He rounded the corner to the left and headed toward the Astronomy Tower. He was shooting glances up and down the halls, checking for teachers and poltergeists alike, because if he got caught out of bed at this time of night, there would be a price, and Draco was determined to avoid scrubbing the chamber pots in the hospital without magic for detention.

He rounded another corner and saw Granger standing there, at the entry to the Astronomy tower. She had some sort of silvery thing bunched up in her arms. Her back was to him, so he snuck up behind her and, standing at her left shoulder, reached around and tapped her right one. She jumped and turned her head to the right to see who was there. When she realised there was nobody on that side, she whipped herself around to face him, glaring.

Draco smirked. "The oldest trick in the book, but everybody falls for it," he said in lieu of saying hello.

"Malfoy, you nearly killed me. I thought you were McGonagall or someone!" she said, with her hand over her chest as if to steady her breathing.

Draco nodded toward the silver bundle in her arms. "What's that you've got there?" he asked.

"This," Hermione said slyly, "Is an Invisibility Cloak. You didn't tell me where we were going, but since we are meeting alone at eleven o'clock at night in the most deserted part of the school, I figured sneaking around would be involved and so I made preparations accordingly."

Draco's face broke out into a broad smile. "Granger, that's brilliant! Does it work?"

"Of course it works, idiot," she said. "If it didn't, I wouldn't have brought it. By the way, are you ever going to tell me this brilliant plan of yours?"

Draco had spent the afternoon planning the exact route he would take to get what they needed and not get caught, and hoped to impress her with his thoroughness.

"I think I just might," he said. "Okay, so we're going to be using that Cloak, and we're going to sneak out to the greenhouses where we have Herbology. In the back of Greenhouse Two, there's a door that leads to a back room. That's where Professor Sprout keeps all her private plants that she grows for her own personal enjoyment. That is where we will find the fluxweed, bathing under the moonlight, ready for the picking. We will only take what we need, so that Sprout doesn't notice that anything's gone missing. We will then sneak back to the castle, and rejoice in our own devious victory. Sound like a plan?"

Hermione grinned. The sight of it made him feel funny on the inside, and he shook it off. He should _not _be feeling this way.

"Sounds like an excellent plan," she said.

Hermione walked over to him and threw the Cloak over the pair of them.

"Let's go."

And they made their way, together, through the door and out into the darkness.


	3. Chapter 3: An Adventure

The night air was cold against Hermione's skin as she and Malfoy made their way across the school's grounds toward the greenhouses where they had their Herbology lessons. The Invisibility Cloak, whilst helpful, did nothing for warmth, just like being crammed under it with Malfoy did nothing for comfort. Although, if she was being honest with herself, Hermione rather enjoyed the feel of being all pressed up to Malfoy's broad, muscular back. She immediately chastised herself. She would _not _have inappropriate thoughts about Malfoy. He was a huge git- he called her Mudblood, he hexed her with beaver teeth, he made her life unpleasant whenever he could. But an annoying little voice in the back of brain reminded her about how he hadn't done any of that stuff for ages, reminded her about how he'd actually been polite, and on occasion, even friendly!

Hermione took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the chill night air. She mentally shook herself, clearing all thoughts of Malfoy and his friendliness from her head. She needed to focus. They were on a mission. She looked around her and noted with surprise that they had arrived at Greenhouse Two. Malfoy took out his wand, pointed it at the door, and whispered "_alohomora!"_ They both breathed a sigh of relief when they heard the lock click, and watched the door swing open with a faint groan.

They both stepped inside and shucked off the Cloak, letting it fall to the floor. It was even colder in here than it had been outside. Hermione shivered, hugging herself.

"Are you cold?" Malfoy asked.

"A bit, yeah. I was too stupid to put a jumper on," Hermione said ruefully.

"Here," Malfoy said, untangling his green and silver Slytherin scarf from around his neck and holding it out to her, "Take this. I've got a jumper on; I don't need it."

Hermione was so shocked at Malfoy's uncharacteristic generosity that she took the scarf without an argument. "Thank you, Draco," she said in a surprised voice.

"That's the first time." Draco mused.

"The first time what?" Hermione asked, perplexed.

"The first time you've called me Draco. You usually just call me Malfoy."

Hermione blushed. She hadn't meant to slip up, but Malfoy's kindness in offering his scarf, as if he cared whether or not she was cold, had caught her off guard. "Sorry," she said, embarrassed. "I can just call you Malfoy if you'd like."

"No, I like Draco. Nobody ever calls me that anymore. It's nice to hear my name."

There was a silence. Not an awkward one, but a peaceful one, as they stood there among the Mandrakes and the Knotgrass, bathed in the gentle light of the full moon, stretching out until Hermione remembered they had come there with a job to do. She turned away from Draco, whose pale features were washed out by the moonlight, turning his blonde hair paper-white, and headed toward the wooden door at the back of the greenhouse. Draco shook himself out of his reverie and followed her. They gently pushed the door open and got to work searching for the fluxweed.

Professor Sprout had all sorts of different plants in here, some incredibly rare. Hermione desperately wanted to take a closer look, but she knew that they had to get what they needed and get out of there as soon as possible. She was just examining a plant with silver-looking leaves when Draco whispered "over here!"

Hermione made her way over to where Draco was and pulled out the shears she'd brought along. The fluxweed was an odd looking plant, kind of like Muggle shallots, only a bright red colour with little white leaves running up the sides.

"How much do we need?" she asked Draco.

"Three stalks, including the leaves," he answered.

Hermione took the shears and snipped off three stalks from the back of the thick bunch of fluxweed. She was confident that Professor Sprout wouldn't notice the difference. She stuck both the fluxweed and the shears in the pocket of her robes and turned to face Draco.

"How did you know about this place, anyway?" she asked him.

Draco gave a naughty-boy kind of grin. "I'm a Slytherin," he said. "How did the Sorting Hat put it? _Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends_. I needed fluxweed, and I was prepared to do some exploring to find it. I also know where to find the powdered horn of a bicorn and shredded skin of boomslang when the time comes."

"Will it involve more sneaking around and late-night meetings like this one?" Hermione asked.

Draco dropped her a wink. "Of course. Now, we'd better head back to the castle. I'm not too mad about the idea of Professor Sprout catching us when she comes down here to do her midnight plant-watering."

Hermione laughed. She headed back into the main part of the greenhouse with Draco and picked up the Cloak. "This time, try not to walk so slowly in front of me!" she joked as she pulled the cloak over both of them. They headed back into the night, pausing to lock the door of the greenhouse behind them. Together, they made their way back into the castle and stopped at the Astronomy Tower. There they pulled the cloak off themselves and stared at each other in silence. This time, it was awkward. How did you say goodbye to somebody who was your mortal enemy not two weeks ago after having an adrenaline-filled night of sneaking around together, held together by a tentative friendship?

Draco was the one to break the silence. "Well, that was fun. See you in Potions, I guess?"

"Yeah," Hermione said.

He moved toward her suddenly, and locked her in a hug that she immediately returned. It was brief, but in those few moments, she could appreciate how he was the perfect height for her, his chin resting atop her head as he held her, her face pressed against his chest, where she could hear the steady beat of his heart and smell everything that was Draco; a spicy scent, like cinnamon mixed with cloves, mixed with soap and that pleasant boy smell that made her feel safe and happy. When he stepped back, he seemed as surprised as she.

"Good night, Draco, "she said.

"Good night, Hermione," he replied.

She turned around and headed off to the Gryffindor common room. As she was getting into her pyjamas, she noticed she still wore Draco's scarf. She decided to leave it on. It was cold, she told herself, and the scarf was comfortable. She curled up in bed, with her face pressed up against the scarf, and fell asleep breathing in the remains of the Draco smell that still clung to the green material.

**_So what did you guys think? Please feel free to review with suggestions! I have some ideas for the next chapters, but I don't want to give it all away yet! xoxo_**


	4. Chapter 4: uncharted territory

Hermione woke up with a strange sense of excitement, the kind you might feel when you wake up on Christmas morning and see a pile of presents at the end of your bed and just _know _you're going to get something good.

She felt like that, with her nerves buzzing and anticipation in her smile. She knew that things were going to be different between her and Draco, but she didn't know exactly what to expect. Hermione dressed herself and headed down to Great Hall for breakfast.

Harry and Ron were already seated at their usual spot and eating like they hadn't seen a meal in a week. She sat down with them and began her breakfast, a small smile still playing on the corners of her mouth.

"You're in a good mood today," Harry noted over the copy of the _Daily Prophet _that he was scanning.

"Yeah, what's up with that?" Ron added, looking at Hermione suspiciously.

Hermione blushed. Was she really that easy to read?

"Oh, nothing," she answered. "Just…er… excited for the Quidditch match tomorrow."

Ron and Harry frowned at her.

"Hermione, since I know for a fact that you don't give a hoot about Quidditch, I'm inclined to think you're lying. And last time you were both flustered and lying, Viktor Krum was involved." Harry said.

"It's got nothing to do with Viktor!" Hermione said haughtily.

"Well, there's a guy involved. Who is he?" Harry demanded.

"Nobody you know. It's not a big deal or anything, don't worry about it," Hermione lied.

A look of pure jealousy crossed Ron's face. "First Vicky, and now this other mysterious guy. You sure get around, don't you, Hermione?" he said nastily.

Hermione tossed her head back proudly. "First of all, you git, I do not _get around_, and if I did, it wouldn't be any of your business. Second of all, you need stop getting all jealous every time I fancy someone." She informed him.

"I am _not _jealous!" Ron said.

"Then why have you got your panties in such a twist then?" she asked him.

Ron said nothing, but the redness in his face gave him away.

"While this is all very amusing," Harry said in a dry voice "we need to get to Potions, or we're going to be late."

Excitement skittered through Hermione's stomach, but she tried to keep her face neutral. "Yes, I want to get there early so that I can check on my potion before Dra – Malfoy arrives," she fibbed quickly, trying not to show she'd slipped up by calling Draco by his first name.

She got up and headed toward the dungeons, leaving an embarrassed Ron and a confused Harry behind her.

Hermione was the first person to enter the classroom. She was ten minutes early, so she pulled out her quill and set to doodling on a spare scrap of parchment she found smooshed at the bottom of her bag.

"Well, well," came a familiar drawling voice from behind her. "If it isn't my little partner in crime. How are you this morning? Exhilarated or exhausted?"

Hermione stopped doodling and smiled. She turned around and there stood Draco with a devil-may-care smile across his face, leaning on a table. His hair was slicked back against hs head, and his emerald green tie was loose around his neck, looking messy in a really hot way. She couldn't help but notice the way his Slytherin jumper hugged his figure, showing the definition of his muscular body.

She smirked at him. "A little bit of both, actually. Yourself?"

"I am both attractive and dishevelled, as usual," he replied coolly.

Hermione laughed. "Once you're finished with your self-worship, Draco, could you please do me the honour of sitting your butt down and helping me make this potion?"

Draco swung himself into the seat beside her. "Have you added our stolen fluxweed yet? He asked, peering into the cauldron.

"Shh!" She warned him. Other students were beginning to filter in and settle themselves at their respective tables.

"No, not yet," she told him. "I need to stir it for two and a half minutes before I add it. Then we kill time for the rest of the lesson while we let it stew."

"I could happily kill a lesson with you," he told her. "Got anything planned?"

She turned faintly red. "Not really," she said.

"Shame. I was looking forward to whatever devious plan your little brain had cooked up." He said, tapping a finger lightly against her head. Hermione felt hyper-sensitive where he touched her, as if an electric current had been running through his finger.

She handed him a cutting board and a knife, along with the fluxweed and told him "here. Instead of talking, cut these up and add them when I tell you to."

He immediately took the board from her and began the cutting-up process.

"So," he said whilst slicing, "You know how I was talking about knowing how to get my hands on powdered bicorn horn and shredded boomslang skin?"

"Yeah…" Hermione replied hesitantly.

"Wanna do that tonight?" he asked, somewhat cautiously. She could sense a layer of vulnerability and insecurity behind the cocky front he put up. He was just as unsure about this newfound friendship as she was.

"Sure," she agreed, feeling a little thrill of anticipation in her stomach. "Same time, same place?"

He nodded, smiling. She could see the relief in her face. He didn't want to mess this – whatever it was – up any more than she did.

Suddenly, they both heard a mini explosion behind them, and the back of their robes were splattered with what appeared to be some sort of goo. It ate away at the material, leaving holes in the fabric. Draco swore and began stripping off his robes, leaving him in his jumper with its loosened tie and his slacks. Hermione wasted no time in doing the same, pulling her robes off over her head and letting them fall to the floor. Her tie was askew and her hair had gotten messed up in her rush to get the acidic stuff – no doubt somebody's failed potion – off her. Draco was looking adorably messed up, and she chastised herself once again for falling for this boy.

He cleared his throat. "Your jumper," he said, and reached out a pale hand and adjusted her jumper, which had ridden up and was exposing a stretch of tanned skin. His fingers brushed the soft skin of her belly as he pulled the material down into it's correct position, letting his hand linger just one moment longer than was necessary, making Hermione feel weak-kneed. She looked from his hand up to his face.

"Thank you, Draco," she said softly.

He let his hand drop. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, looking vaguely… flustered. They both directed their gazes to the pile of black robes still smouldering on the floor. Nothing, mercifully, had landed on their skin or in their hair.

The source of the acidic potion turned out to be – surprise, surprise – Neville Longbottom. His face was bright red as he looked around at his splattered classmates mournfully. "Why is it always me?" he muttered, looking back into his empty cauldron. Harry was sitting next to his, Potions book open but riddled with holes from where Neville's potion hat splattered it. Harry looked upset, but patted Neville on the shoulder and said "It's alright, mate. It's a difficult potion. We can't all be geniuses like our Hermione here," he said, sending Hermione a smile.

Hermione felt guilty at that smile, because Harry had always been like a brother to her, and trusted her implicitly, and here she was, deceiving him by telling him that she fancied some guy he'd never heard of, when in fact, she was fancying none other than Draco Malfoy, the person Harry hated the most.

She returned his smile with a grim one of her own and turned back to her table. Draco was busy making sure that nothing had spilled into their potion.

"Everything good?" she asked him.

"Yes, thank Merlin. I would have _killed _Longbottom if he'd ruined our potion."

Hermione shot him a look.

"What?" he asked. "It's not like you wouldn't."

She half smiled. He was right, and he knew it. She set to work cleaning up the rest of the splatters of the table, which had enchantments to hold up if something like this ever happened, using the remains of their robes as cloths. When everything was acid-free, she sat back down with Draco. Just before the bell rang, he turned to her and said "We still on for our little adventure?"

"Of course," she said.

He grinned at her, rippled his fingers in a wave, and headed out the door. Hermione started to close her books, and noticed a little note peeking out from underneath her ink pot, written in small, familiar letters. She pulled it out and smoothed it with her fingers. It was very brief.

_See you tonight._

She smiled and tucked the note into her pocket, the words floating over and over in her brain.

_See you tonight._

**_Yay! A little bit more Dramione action! I'm worried I'm rushing the storyline a little bit, but I just cannot wait to get the Dramione action really going! As always, please review with your opinions/suggestions! xoxo_**


	5. Chapter 5: An Unexpected Turn Of Events

Draco walked toward the Slytherin common room, his cunning mind plotting his plan for the evening. He knew that this mission would be much riskier than the last one, but boomslang skin and bicorn horn cost a _fortune _to buy. He could have afforded it, of course – He was a Malfoy, after all – but, as unwilling as he was to admit it to himself, he much preferred meeting up with Hermione in secret, being crammed together under that invisibility cloak, and the adrenaline that caused him he to be more confident than usual, attempting things he wouldn't dare to try during the day. Like that hug, for instance. Draco knew that it was only a hug, but he couldn't get it off his mind. He couldn't understand why a simple hug of all things should linger in his brain, when Merlin knew he'd done much more with many other girls – Being the little Slytherin prince did have its perks, after all.

Still in his reverie, he muttered the new password ("Salazar") and directed his feet to his bed, where he kicked off his shoes and lay back on the emerald-green sheets, drawing the silver curtains around him so that he could have some privacy. He couldn't get that bloody muggleborn girl off his mind! Draco groaned out loud and rolled over so that his face was buried in his pillow. What a fix he'd gotten himself into. It was almost torture, knowing what he wanted, but also knowing that it was forbidden. He _wanted _to hold her hand and nuzzle her hair and put his arms around her slim waist. He _wanted _to be able to kiss her into oblivion, to get lost in the feel of her lips and the smell of her skin. He _wanted _to do everything you would do with somebody who was your girlfriend, but he _couldn't! _If his father found out, he would disown Draco.

He sat up straight. So what if his father found out? Lucius could deal with it. He knew his mother was dying for him to find somebody he cared about, and if that meant a muggleborn, so be it. He was going to do what he wanted to do. He was going to follow his desires. With a new resolve, he took is face out of the pillow and sat up. It was nearly eleven. Time to meet Hermione. He headed out into the common room and was about to walk out the door when a flash of colour in his peripheral vision stopped him.

The flash of colour he'd seen turned out to be a flyer magically appearing on the Slytherin notice board. He took it down and examined it.

Hogwarts Christmas Ball

Inspired by the success of the Yule Ball, this year Hogwarts will be hosting a Christmas Ball for its students on the 24th of December. Bring a date and your Christmas cheer to the Great Hall and make it an evening you won't forget!

Attire: Dress robes

Draco put the flyer back up on the notice board and smiled. The words _bring a date _swirled around in his mind as he walked to the Astronomy tower. He would love to ask Hermione, but he was unsure that she'd appreciate that. He'd need to advance their friendship a little further before he asked her.

He was first to the Astronomy tower this time. He leaned against the wall and prepared to wait for Hermione to arrive. Draco didn't have to wait long. Not thirty seconds later, he saw Hermione hurrying toward him, with the Invisibility Cloak and something green stuffed under her arm. She stopped when she saw him, and smiled.

"You ready to go?" he asked.

"Lead the way." She answered, gesturing down the hall.

Hermione's heart had tightened when she saw Draco, leaning against the wall with his foot propped up and his arms folded like a poster boy for Sexiest Slytherin Alive. She smiled and walked over to him. He stood up straight upon her arrival and smiled back.

"Ready to go?" he asked her.

"Lead the way." She answered. She threw the Invisibility Cloak over the pair of them and waited for him to start walking. Instead, he took her hand, and began leading her down the corridor. He kept her hand in his, and Hermione thought it was the most wonderful feeling in the world. She'd held plenty of boy's hands before, of course, but nothing had ever felt like this; her skin felt alive and electric, almost as though there should be sparks where their skin made contact. She tried not to smile too broadly or squeeze his hand too hard, afraid she might ruin it.

"Now," he said, whilst towing her along, "This is going to be a lot more risky than last night. Because tonight… tonight we steal from Snape's private stores."

"_What?"_ she asked, coming to a halt so abruptly that her hand came unclasped from Draco's.

"You said that it would involve _sneaking around, _Draco. Not suicide! Because that's what this will turn out to be if we get caught!" she screeched.

Draco whipped his head around frantically. "_Shh!" _he warned. "It won't do us any good if we get caught before we can even get into Snape's store room!"

"We're going to get caught anyway," she argued. "Snape isn't an idiot; he's not going to be fooled by an Invisibility Cloak and two teenage kids."

"Hey, hey," he said, gripping the tops of her arms. "We're not just _two teenage kids_. We are probably the two smartest magical students in this whole school. Not only that, but you're a Gryffindor; you're brave, and I'm a Slytherin; I'm cunning. Plus, I did a bit of snooping around and I found out that Snape is in a staff meeting at the moment, which finishes at 11:30. So we have a whole half hour to get a few little things from Snape's private store. The chances of getting caught are so low it's laughable. Okay?"

Hermione knew he was right. She was, after all, a Gryffindor; where had her courage gone? With a new resolve, she straightened up and looked Draco in the face.

"Okay." She answered.

He smiled, and trailed his hands down her arms until they rested in hers.

"Is this okay?" he asked, somewhat nervously.

She couldn't speak, so she just nodded.

"Let's go, then." He said, and began leading her down the hall again.

Snape's private store was located on the seventh floor, quite close to the Room of Requirement. They walked there together, his hand still in hers, until they came to a halt in front of a small wooden door. Hermione was beginning to feel nervous.

"I'll peek my head in to make sure nobody's in there," Draco whispered. "I'll nod at you if everything's clear."

She nodded. Anxiety was coursing through her like a tidal wave. The idea of Snape catching them terrified her. He would be furious. He would fail her. He would _expel _her. He would-

"Hermione!" Draco hissed.

"Sorry, what?" she asked, shaking her head to clear it of her fears.

"Come on!" he said, and held the door open.

Still under the Invisibility Cloak, they maneuvered their way through the narrow frame of the door and into Snape's private store room. It was no bigger than the pantry at her home in Muggle London, she thought, and filled with jars with simple labels on them, declaring them to be things like 'WOLFSBANE' and 'FLUTTERKELP'.

She scanned the shelves, looking for the ingredients they needed.

"There!" she whispered, pointing to a small jar in the top highest corner of the room that was labelled 'BICORN HORN'. She pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and walked over to the shelf. Even standing on her tiptoes, she couldn't quite reach.

"Here," Draco said, walking over to her. "I'll give you a lift up."

He placed his hands around her waist and lifted her a few inches off the floor; just enough for her to close her fingers around the jar and pull it toward her.

"Got it," she said, and felt him lower her back to the ground, but he didn't take his hands off her waist. They lingered there, warm even through the material of her robes. Slowly, Hermione turned around, and found her face very close to his; so close, in fact, that their noses were just touching. She felt dizzy at his nearness, and she could see that his eyes were dark with a kind of hunger, and could feel the warmth of his breath against her face.

She swallowed. "Um," she whispered, ducking her head. "Ex-excuse me."

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Draco lowered his hands from her waist and stepped back. The rush of cold air between them seemed almost cruel, but she moved around him and got to work searching for the boomslang skin, her brain still foggy from what had just happened.

She spotted it on a perfectly reachable shelf not two inches to her left, clearly labelled BOOMSLANG SKIN. She grabbed it and tucked into the pocket of her robes, where it clinked against the other bottle resting in there.

"You ready?" she asked, without looking at him.

He nodded. She walked over to him and threw the Invisibility Cloak over them, and silently, they made their way out of the store room and down the hall.

"Hermione?" Draco asked once they'd reached the Astronomy Tower. It was the first time he'd spoken through the whole trip.

"Yeah?" she answered, relieved he'd broken the heavy silence that had sat between them ever since that near-kiss in the store room.

"When you met me here tonight, you were carrying the Cloak and something else, something green. What was it?" he asked her.

"Oh! That was your scarf. You gave it to me last night and I forgot to give it back to you. Here, take it." she said, untangling the green and silver scarf from around her neck, where she'd put it after they'd gotten under the Cloak.

"Keep it," he said waving the scarf away with his hand. "I don't need it; I've got hundreds."

"Draco, what in the name of Merlin's best trousers am I supposed to do with a _Slytherin scarf_?" she asked him incredulously.

"I don't know. Hide it. Sell it. Tie it in a bow on your bedpost." He drawled.

"For goodness sake, if you don't take your bloody scarf somebody is going to notice and start asking questions, which will be awkward to answer especially considering that we're supposed to be enemies." She said exasperatedly.

Slowly, he reached out and took the scarf from her.

"I know we're not enemies, Hermione," he began. "But are we friends?"

Hermione felt a faint blush creeping into her cheeks; Draco was more than a friend to her.

"Yes, I think we are." She answered.

"Do you… Do you think… that there could be more?" He ventured nervously.

"What do you mean?" she asked him.

"I was wondering if… would you…" he stopped and took a deep breath. "Will you please be my date to the Christmas Ball?"

At first, Hermione was elated. She wanted to tell him _yes yes yes_, but reality took hold and brought her crashing down to Earth.

"Wow, Draco," she said. "I would love to, but… what would people _say_? How am I supposed to say to Harry and Ron 'Oh by the way, I'm going to the Christmas Ball with Draco Malfoy. Just thought you should know'. They would never forgive me! Well, Harry would, but Ron…" She bit her lip.

"So don't tell them." Draco said. "Just show up on my arm on the night and let them deal with it then."

She opened her mouth to protest, but was cut off very abruptly by Draco Malfoy's lips crashing down on hers. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, her body fitting perfectly against his. His mouth was warm and insistent against hers, causing her to melt on the inside. When he finally pulled back, it felt as though an essential part of her had been ripped away. He kept his head close to hers and whispered "Will you _please _go to the Christmas Ball with me?"

Hermione was only able to form one word.

"Yes."


	6. Chapter 6: Consequences

Hermione tiptoed into the Gryffindor common room, still on a high from Draco's kisses. She didn't know what it meant for them in the future, but she was excited to find out. Quietly, she started for the stairs that led up to her dorm room, when she was stopped by a very familiar voice.

"Hermione."

It was Harry. She hadn't seen him sitting there on the couch in front of the fire, so lost in her thoughts. Slowly, she spun around to face him. He was looking at her with betrayal and barley concealed anger on his face.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked her, waving a piece of old parchment in his hand. Hermione's stomach sank, but she tried not to look guilty, schooling her features into an expression of innocence and confusion.

"What do you mean, Harry?" she asked him, the picture of innocence. "Of course I do; that's the Marauder's Map!"

"Right," he said, his anger growing more profound every minute. "And do you know what the Marauder's Map does?

Hermione now felt sick. She knew that Harry knew who she'd been meeting, but she decided to keep up the charade. "It allows you to see Hogwarts and the going-ons of all its inhabitants. Harry, what are you getting at?"

"Never mind what _I'm _getting at. Let's focus on what _you're _getting at. Or rather, _who_. I've been watching you on the Map since you left. I know your little secret, Hermione Granger. I know that the boy you've been seeing is Malfoy." Harry spat, his face contorted in anger.

Hermione felt like she wanted to throw up. What she had with Draco was still so fragile, so uncertain, that she had no idea whether or not you could call it _seeing each other_, and she most certainly hadn't intended for either Ron or Harry to find out about it this soon. She was going to try her damnedest to get away with it, to pretend that she was doing no more than meeting up with Draco to grab some supplies for their potion.

"Merlin's beard, Harry, have you gone completely mad? How could you have possibly have come to the conclusion that I'm seeing _Malfoy_?" she asked him in an incredulous tone. "I met up with him tonight because we had to steal some supplies from Snape's private store cupboard for our potion, that's all. Nothing else happened."

Hermione hated lying to Harry.

"Really? Because you seemed to linger by the Astronomy Tower for a long time, Hermione. What were you doing? Jovially discussing the finer points of the Polyjuice Potion?" he asked her.

"Even if we did linger there for a while, Harry, what could possibly lead you to the conclusion that I was seeing Malfoy?" she asked him in a disbelieving tone.

"The look on your face when you came in. It was the same one you wore at breakfast this morning. Not only that, but your cheeks were flushed, and you had this stupid grin on your face. Plus, you were _humming. _Now look me in the eye and tell me that's not the sign of a girl who just made out with Malfoy."

Hermione slid to the ground, defeated.

"Okay," she said, tears blurring her vision. "Okay. Yes, I was with Draco tonight. Yes, he kissed me, and it wasn't repulsive. I don't know how it happened- I don't know how we became close, and I don't know if you could technically say that we're _seeing each other_. There's a lot that I'm unsure of Harry, but what I don't need at the moment is for you to hate me or judge me!" she finished semi-hysterically.

"But why _Malfoy?_ Do you just love the way he calls you Mudblood? Does it just give you chills?" Harry asked. There was a disbelieving note in his voice, and Hermione could tell that he had hoped he was wrong, and for her to confirm it stripped away what little faith he had left in her.

She was crying now, tears making hot tracks down her face, getting caught on her lips and leaving them wet and salty.

"I don't know!" she cried. "All I know is that he's gentle with me and he is almost as smart as I am, and we can have intelligent conversations, and he can tell when I'm cold, or sad, and he tries to fix it, and on top of all that he's _just so pretty!_" she was almost yelling, and Harry shushed her in an effort not to wake up the entire castle.

"I understand that we can't control our emotions, but why did you then go and lie to me? We're best friends, Hermione; I've always told you everything, even when what I was telling you was embarrassing or devastating." Harry said, sounding close to tears himself.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione whispered. "I didn't want you to hate me. I thought you would despise me and never speak to me again, you and Ron."

"That's another thing," Harry said with anger. "Ron. Merlin's beard, Hermione, you know that he fancies you! You know that he gets crazy jealous every time you so much as _look _at another guy…"

Hermione groaned. "Please, please, please Harry, do not tell Ron. If you never do anything for me ever again, at least do this. Just keep it to yourself until I tell him."

Harry's expression darkened. "Do you ever plan on telling him, Hermione? Or will you lie to him forever?"

"Of course I'm going to tell him! Just… not yet."

Harry sighed. "I haven't forgiven you, but I won't tell Ron. I'm going to bed. You can do the same." He said, and stalked past her without another word.

When Hermione woke up, it was with mixed emotions of both joy and sorrow. Joy over what had happened the night before and over seeing Draco in Potions that day, sorrow because of the argument she'd had with Harry before bed. They rarely fought, and they'd certainly never had a falling-out of this magnitude. Then again, she'd never made out with one of Harry's enemies and then lied about it before. She sighed. Today was certainly going to be interesting. She slipped out of bed and got dressed, thinking of Draco's scarf and half-wishing she'd kept it so that she had a little bit of that night to hold on to.

Resignedly, Hermione made her way down to the Great Hall where Harry and Ron were having breakfast. She didn't know how Harry was going to treat her, and she wasn't excited to find out.

"Good morning, boys," she said when she reached them, taking the chair opposite the pair of them.

"Morning, Hermione," Ron replied.

Harry was studiously ignoring her. Ron looked at him a little oddly.

"Mate," he said, tugging on the sleeve of Harry's robes. "Hermione said good morning."

"I know." Harry replied, not looking up from his plate.

Ron looked at Hermione, then back at Harry and frowned. Eventually he shrugged and decided to change the subject.

"So, Hermione," Ron began, speaking through a mouthful of scrambled eggs, "Have you got a date for the Christmas Ball yet?"

It was the wrong thing to say. She tensed up and glanced at Harry, who was glaring at her. Hermione decided to do what she'd done at the Yule ball and not tell him who she was going with.

"Yeah," she said nonchalantly.

Ron choked on his food. "Already?! But the flyer only came out last night!" he exclaimed, looking at her in a disbelieving sort of way.

"Yes, well, it would appear I get quite popular where these events are concerned." She said coolly, pretending to examine her fingernails.

Harry rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Hermione shot him a look that said _do not tell Ron_. Harry pretended to zip his lips shut. Ron was oblivious to the exchange, still lost in his own little world.

"Who are you going with, then, if you get so popular?" he asked her in a challenging tone.

"I guess you'll just have to find out on the night, won't you?" She told him. Harry snorted. _That's it, _Hermione thought, rising to her feet.

"Harry? A word?" she hissed, pulling him to his feet and dragging him away. She pulled him to a stop in an abandoned corridor and rounded on him.

"Would you mind telling me why you've been treating me like a disease?" she hissed, getting in his face.

"Would you mind telling me why you've been whoring around with Malfoy?" he countered.

Hermione gasped. She couldn't believe Harry had just said that to her. He seemed to realize that he'd said something terrible, because he looked contrite.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he whispered. "It's just that… I have a very uncertain life. I always have. But I've always had a few constants that never changed; that Voldemort killed my parents, that you and Ron are my best friends, and that we all hate Draco Malfoy. And now, you've ripped one of those constants from me, destabilizing me. How am I supposed to react to that?"

Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't realize how badly her relationship – if you could call it that – with Draco had affected him. She reached out and hugged him.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she told him. "But can you at least… try to accept it for what it is? I never meant to hurt you, but it's unfair of you to judge me so harshly for my decision, especially since I've never judge you for any of yours."

"But how am I supposed to treat him now?" Harry asked desperately.

"The same way you always have. I'm not asking you to change anything. This is about me. You can go on hating him, and him you, but understand that just because you don't like somebody doesn't mean that I can't." She told him, trying not to let the tears that were welling up in her eyes to spill over. Merlin's beard, she hated arguing with Harry.

Harry let out a breath and ran his hand through his already messy hair in frustration. "I dunno, Hermione," he told her. "I need some time for it to sink in."

"Will you at least stop ignoring me?" she asked him desperately.

He sighed again. "I suppose so. Just don't expect me to trust you as much anymore."

And with that, Harry spun on his heel and walked away, leaving her alone in the corridor. Hermione slid down the wall on to the floor and put her face in her hands, the tears that had been threatening to come before finally spilling down her cheeks and leaking between her fingers.

**_What do you guys think? Please please please review and prepare yourself for some more ramione cuteness and friendship angst! Xo_**


	7. Chapter 7: Condolences and Clarification

Hermione didn't know how long she sat there, alone, with tears making hot tracks down her face before she was interrupted by somebody gently pulling her hands away from her face. At first she thought it was Harry, coming back to apologize and tell her he forgave her, but as she blinked the tears away from her eyes, she realized it was somebody else. Somebody with blond hair and a pale, pointed face, who smelled like cinnamon and cloves and an assortment of different spices.

Draco.

With a sob, she leaned into him and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close while she cried into his chest. Finally, after about ten minutes, he leaned back and pushed her hair out of her eyes, wiping away the excess tears.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

Hermione looked up at him. She realized that she had to know for sure what was going on between her and Draco in order for Harry to accept it and forgive her.

"Draco?" she asked him tentatively.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"What… what are we? I mean, we're friends, but now we're going to the Christmas Ball together, and you kissed me last night, and I kissed you back…" she trailed off into a nervous silence.

Draco was thoughtful for a moment. He, too, seemed unsure of where they stood.

"I've been thinking about that," he told her finally. "And I decided that I would tell you what I thought we were and then let you decide if you wanted that or not."

"And what do you think we are?" she asked him.

"Well, I don't exactly go around kissing all of my friends. So I guess what I'm saying is… if I had to call anybody my girlfriend, it would be you." He said, looking down at the floor.

Hermione put her hand under his chin and tilted his head up until he was looking directly at her. Then, slowly, she leaned in and gently pressed her lips to his. He made a surprised noise in the back of his throat but wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him, tangling his fingers in her hair. His lips pressed firmly against hers, warm and rough, causing her blood to start pounding through her veins as the kisses intensified. Finally, she pulled away, both of their breathing ragged, with Hermione sitting in Draco's lap. She smiled against his mouth.

"That's what I think of that idea." She told him. He chuckled, and she could feel the vibration of his chest against hers.

She stood up, and straightened her robes and tie, which had gone askew, and pulled Draco up by his hands, which she kept clasped in hers.

"Come on, missy," he told her, tugging her down the hall. "We have a Potions lesson to get to."

Draco felt more alive than he had in weeks. He was still buzzing from Hermione's kisses, and his hand felt electric where it held hers. He was absentmindedly rubbing circles on the back of her palm when she pulled him to a stop.

"Draco," she began, "we can't let people see us like this yet. I say we keep it quiet for a while and then slowly introduce the idea. It would be a shock for people to suddenly come across this" –she held up their interlocked hands – "when they thought we were sworn enemies."

"Alright," he agreed. "A good start would be to walk in to class together, friendly."

She nodded her head, dropped his hand, and together they headed down the hall that lead to the classroom in the dungeons.

They entered the classroom together, laughing at a joke Draco had made. They attracted a few funny looks, but not much else. They sat down at their work table, and Hermione pulled out their cauldron from under the bench. It had a distinct muddy look about it now, but not quite the correct consistency yet, which was to be expected, especially considering that they hadn't added all of the ingredients yet. She pulled the bicorn horn and boomslang skin from her bag and set them on top of the table.

"Here," she told Draco, handing him the boomslang skin, "This needs to be shredded. You work on that while I grind this bicorn horn down to a powder."

He nodded, and began working, his head bent low over the bench. She reached below the table for her utensils and felt a hand grab hers, interlacing their fingers together. She glanced up at Draco, who had one arm under the table and a slight smile curving his lips.

Hermione felt her own lips turn up at the corners, and she squeezed Draco's hand before letting it go. He looked at her quizzically.

"I can't work with one hand." She explained to him in a whisper. He nodded and pulled his hand out from under the table, feeling disappointed.

The rest of the lesson was uneventful. When the bell rang, Draco took his time to pack up his gear, waiting for a chance to talk to Hermione alone. He got that chance as she was walking out the door. He followed her, grabbed the sleeve of her robes and pulled her into a deserted corridor.

"What's up?" she asked him.

"There's something I wanted to ask you. Well, two things, really, but since I can ask you both questions at the same time I'm counting it as one thing." He told her.

"And…?" she prompted him.

"First of all, you never answered me this morning when I asked you what was wrong. So I ask you again: what's wrong?" He asked her.

Hermione's shoulders slumped, and she looked at the ground. "Harry found out about… y'know… _us_" she told him. "And he's furious. I'm pretty sure he hates me. He's not talking to me, in any case. And it's just awful because Harry and I have always been best friends; we've never fought, not like this. And now I've gone and ruined _everything_. I suck." She said dismally, her eyes looking suspiciously bright.

Draco was baffled. "How in the name of Merlin did he found out? _When_ did he find out?" he demanded. He was going to kill Potter for making her cry.

"Last night, when I came back to the common room, he was waiting for me. He was so angry at me for lying to him and for being with you." She explained.

"But, Hermione, _how did he find out_?" He asked again, frantic.

"Harry has a magical map of Hogwarts that shows not only the layout of the castle, but all its inhabitants. He found out as soon as it happened, thanks to that bloody map!" she cried.

Draco's stomach sank. "How many people has he told?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "Nobody. I asked him not to tell." She said.

Draco was doubtful. "Do you think he'll keep your secret?" he inquired.

She nodded. "Of course he will. Even angry, he's still Harry. He won't betray me." She said with confidence. "Now, what about that second question you wanted to ask me?"

Draco grinned at her. "Why, I was merely wondering if you would like to accompany me on a date this evening." He said.

She smiled up at him. "I would be honoured to go on a date with you tonight." She answered.

"Excellent. I'll pick you up from your dorm room at nine." He told her.

"From my dorm room? How?" she asked him, confused.

He winked. "All will be revealed this evening, milady. Just be dressed and sitting on your bed at nine pm, sharp." He leaned in and placed a quick peck on her lips then strolled away, excitement coursing through his veins. He had a date with Hermione. A real one, not a stupid mission to fetch school supplies. He headed back to the Slytherin common room to while away the time of the free period he had next up. He wished that the day was over already so that he could be on his way to pick her up. He couldn't wait to see the look on her face when he picked her up this evening. With a grin, he flung himself onto a couch in the Slytherin common room and closed his eyes, imagining his evening with Hermione, but was interrupted by an annoyingly familiar voice.

"Draco?"

He groaned inwardly and opened his eyes. Pansy Parkinson stood in front of him, a sugary smile pasted to her pug face. When she saw he was awake and looking at her, she gave a high pitched laugh and sat herself down in his lap, stroking his hair back off his face. He pulled her off him and moved his head to the side so that she couldn't reach it.

"Can I help you, Pansy?" he asked her, annoyed.

She pouted. "Dracooo, I never see you anymore! I'm getting _lonely!" _ She said, in her aggravating little-girl voice.

"Well, Pansy, maybe I don't feel like seeing you at the moment" he replied sharply. Merlin, he was so sick of Pansy! She was the clingy-est person he had ever had the unfortunate luck of meeting!

Draco got up and walked away, leaving a confused and slightly insulted Pansy Parkinson behind him, making his way to his dorm room, where he intended to begin the preparations for what he hoped would be the best date Hermione Granger had ever been on.


	8. Chapter 8: The Date

Hermione sat on her bed later that night, almost quivering with excitement. Every second brought her closer to her date with Draco, a fact that had made the day seem to go on forever. But, finally, that final bell rang after dinner, and she could make her way up to her dorm room to get ready. And now here she was, at 8:58pm, two minutes away from the arranged time. Nervously, she got up and walked over to the mirror to check on her appearance. She had used liberal amounts of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion to tame her wild locks, and was wearing a warm dress that came down to her knees, paired with tights and boots. She was afraid it would be too much, but she couldn't just wear her robes, and she needed to be warm.

She checked her watch again and noticed that it read 9:00. Time for Draco to pick her up! She made her way over to her bed so that she would be sitting on it when he arrived, as he had instructed. She still couldn't fathom how he was going to pick her up from her dorm room, however. Hermione was mulling this over when she heard a tap on the window next to her bed. She whipped her head around and ran over to the glass, smiling broadly. Draco was on his Nimbus Two Thousand and One broomstick, hovering at her window like a knight in shining armour upon his noble steed. He had a huge smile on his face, and he signalled for Hermione to open the window. She did, and he maneuvered the Nimbus so that she would be able to get on to it through the window without falling to a gruesome death.

"_This_ was your plan? To come to my window on your broomstick like a young squire gallantly riding to his lady's house on his white horse?" she asked him, laughing.

"Exactly like that," he answered, and then leant through the window to give her a kiss. "Now milady, shall we?"

"We shall.' She said, and clambered through the window onto the broom behind Draco.

"Hold on to me!" he said as they accelerated. She quickly wrapped her arms around his waist, enjoying the feel of the hard muscles of his abdomen under her hands. Draco leaned forward, and the broomstick sped up, blowing back Hermione's hair and bringing tears to her eyes. It was amazing and exhilarating; the feeling of flying through the air with her cheek pressed into Draco's warm back to ward off the cold. They flew over the Quidditch grounds, did a lap around Ravenclaw Tower, and began to slow down when they neared the lake. Draco steered the broom so that they were flying just above the black water of the lake. Hermione reached down and let her fingers skim the top of the water, causing slight ripples to cross the surface. The water was shockingly cold, and she had to pull her fingers out because they were beginning to go numb. Draco was flying very slowly now, alerting Hermione that they might be nearing their destination. They were headed toward a thicket of trees that surrounded the lake, and Hermione began to wonder where they would stop. However, just before they hit the trees, he directed the broom to the ground. They got off, and she smoothed back her hair, which had gone wild from the wind.

Draco took her hand, smiling, and led her up the bank of the lake which they were currently standing on. He ducked under a branch and stopped.

"Welcome to my secret hideaway!" he announced, his arms spread wide and a gorgeous smile plastered to his face.

Hermione looked around in wonder. They were in a little copse of trees that sheltered them from the cold but awarded them to a full view of the lake, where the lights of the castle reflected off the water, looking magical.

"It's beautiful," she said, staring out across the water.

Draco walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. "Not as beautiful as you," he whispered, brushing her hair to the side and kissing her neck softly.

She blushed and looked down.

"I'm serious," he said between kisses, "you look amazing. You always look beautiful without even trying, and when you put a little effort in, you are a vision. When I came to your window tonight, I wanted to get on my knees and worship you."

Hermione felt dizzy, both from his kisses and his words. Nobody had ever said anything like that to her before, and she felt her eyes prickle with happy tears.

"So," she said, trying not to let on how much his words had affected her, "What's on the agenda for tonight?"

He grinned. Hermione thought she'd never seen him smile so much before. It never got old. His smiles lit up his entire face, set his aura buzzing with a steady glow of happiness, bringing colour to his pale cheeks and showing of his perfect teeth. He really was the most beautiful boy she'd ever seen.

"Come on. I'll show you." He said and pulled out a large picnic basket from the small pocket of the black suit he was wearing. She shot him a confused look, and then realization dawned on her. He had a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"Undetectable Expansion Charm, huh?" she asked him wryly.

"That would be the one." He answered.

"So we're having a picnic?" she said, eyeing the basket and the blanket he'd pulled from the pocket.

"A very romantic picnic with a few surprises along the way." He answered mysteriously.

She sighed dramatically. "Fine. Don't tell me." She said in mock annoyance.

In truth, she kind of liked the idea of handing control over to somebody else for a change. Hermione's entire life was just control and responsibility, and it was both wonderful and terrifying to let Draco take charge.

He spread out the picnic blanket beneath them, and set the basket on top of it. From it, he pulled put two mugs of butterbeer, some bread, a container of cream cheese, and a punnet of strawberries. Hermione watched his deft hands work as he sliced up the bread, spreading the cream cheese onto it and topping it off with strawberry slices. She looked at him dubiously as he set it in front of her with a mug of butterbeer.

"It's delicious, I promise." He said, biting into his food.

Hermione picked up the cheese and strawberry sandwich and took a tentative bite. The cream cheese was soft and warm, the bread amazing, and the strawberries exploded with flavour in her mouth. Draco was right. It was delicious. She sighed and took a sip of her butterbeer, letting the drink warm her insides as it travelled through her. Content, she laid back on the blanket, arms behind her head, gazing at the lights of the castle reflecting off the lake's surface.

"It's so beautiful here," She said, drinking in the feel of being here, alone with Draco in this magical place and its amazing food. On impulse, she rolled over so that her body was fitted to Draco's, who was lying on his side with his head propped up on his hand, watching her. He wrapped his arms tightly around her and rolled onto his back, pulling her so that she was lying on top of him. He reached his hand behind her head and pulled her mouth down on his.

The kiss started out as gentle, but Draco didn't let it stay that way, his lips becoming fierce against hers, running his hand down her body until it rested on her hip. Hermione responded with equal enthusiasm, her hands roaming under his shirt, feeling the hard muscles of his abdomen and the warmth of his skin.

When she pulled away, breathing hard, she noticed that her dress had ridden up to her waist, and Draco's hair was mussed from her hands. _You haven't seen anything, Harry, _she thought wryly. _THIS is what a girl who's just made out with Malfoy looks like._

Draco had propped himself up on his elbows and was gazing at her like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. His eyes travelled from her hair, to her face, which Hermione imagined was bright pink with swollen lips, down her body, lingering on her legs, where her dress was still exposing them. Flushing, she adjusted it back to its original position.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, Hermione Granger," he said softly, still gazing at her. "I feel like the luckiest man alive."

Hermione looked at his pale blond hair, his sharp, pointy face, tinged with colour, his messed up suit jacket, his shirt which was still pulled up in places revealing his Quidditch-player body.

"You're not too bad yourself." She said breathlessly.

He sat up and pulled her against him. Not kissing her, just holding her, his face buried in her hair. After a while, she slid down so that her head rested in his lap. They spent the next hour or so just talking, with his hand stroking her hair. They talked about everything. Hermione told him about her family in Muggle London, describing the way Muggles did things, from telephones to computers to sports. He watched her with an enraptured smile on his face, taking it all in. Then Draco told her about being raised as a wizard, about life in Malfoy Manor, describing the pressure that was placed on his shoulders to act like a Malfoy should, being in Slytherin, marrying a pure-blood, spouting blood prejudice to anybody that would listen. Eventually he lay down too, and they were spooning like an old married couple. There was a stretch of silence that lasted for about ten minutes while they both lay there, lost in thought. Finally she heard Draco speak.

"Hermione, Merlin knows I would like to stay here forever with you, but as it's nearly midnight, we should get back."

She groaned. She was so happy to be here with Draco, where they didn't have to act for others, but she knew she had responsibilities. Quickly, she downed the rest of her butterbeer and handed the empty mug to Draco, who shoved it in his pocket with the rest of the picnic equipment. He stood up and reached his hand down to hers, pulling her onto her feet. Keeping their hands like that, they walked over to the broomstick together. Draco got on first, and then helped Hermione get on behind him.

Flying back with Draco was just as exhilarating the second time, and all too soon Hermione found them hovering outside the open window of her dormitory. He turned his head around and kissed her, a long, gentle kiss that made her insides turn to liquid.

"Thank you for a beautiful evening." She whispered against his lips. She slipped off the broomstick and into her dorm room, a giddy smile plastered to her face. She collapsed into bed, exhausted but excited. She had never felt so alive.


End file.
